Caging Demons
by TheRedStarAtNight
Summary: Follow-up to my previous fic "Reconcilliation". With new purpose, comes new responsibility for Bucky - along with a mission courtesy of Nick Fury. Even with Natasha, Steve and Sam watching his back, the spectre of his past as the Winter Soldier still haunts Bucky from the shadows. Set Post-The Winter Soldier.


Caging Demons  
2014 The Red Star At Night

Despite the amount of time that had passed since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., there still seemed little to no hope of it taking the mighty position it once held. Besides that fact, Nick Fury's work from the shadows was proving every bit as effective as when he'd been sat in his pristine office in Washington, DC. While the Avengers were solid, they were in little need to come together when there wasn't a imminent global threat. In the absence of one, Fury saw fit to continue to restore and maintain the balance between the proverbial forces of good and evil in the world. Hydra's ambition had not diminished but without the colossus of S.H.I.E.L.D. to hide behind, it had gone to ground.

There was never time for Bucky to grow bored, not when he along with Natasha, Steve and Sam were putting their skills to good use with Fury providing them with ample just causes to effectuate. Captain America was as conspicuous as the Hulk, but have Steve grow a beard and dye his blond head a few shades darker, he could blend in as well as Natasha. Bucky didn't particularly love her fiery red locks lightened to a strawberry blonde, but she was still his and that was all that mattered. In fact, it mattered a great deal considering their current location. The past few weeks had been arduous ones, to say the least, but in and amongst the peril and subterfuge, Bucky had seemed more like his original self than he ever had. That wasn't to say he was, just that he felt somewhat more at ease with who he was in the present. He'd been a soldier and fought in W. , but despite the lives he'd taken and the blood he'd shed, the man he'd been had kept his soul intact, not to mention his mind. That soul had since been tarnished, shredded and nearly destroyed. He could never go back. Half the time he wished he could. The other half, he was grateful for who he now was and especially so for the company he kept.

He had his best friend, his best girl and one hell of a soldier watching his back. Bucky hadn't needed to hear much from Fury beyond learning of Hydra's involvement before agreeing. The task itself was secondary, as was the location. It was only as they entered Russia that the unease settled inside him. The mission was clear and simple, but the emotions and thoughts that were aroused in him were not so easy to assimilate. Natasha understood, thanks heavens. He didn't need to explain it to her and could accept the comfort of her taking his hand in hers or whispering a few words in his ear to help him center himself. Still, ever since they'd begun, he'd felt unhinged. He hid it well enough, or so he thought, until two days in, Steve had taken him aside. But before his friend had even begun to question him, Bucky found himself confessing the very real fear that somewhere out there was a spectre from the past, waiting to snatch him back and once again erase his identity. Steve's vow that he'd not let it happen assuaged him to a certain extent, but it was the conviction with which the words were spoken that served to loosen the grip fear had upon his heart. Bucky saw it in Steve's eyes - he'd die before he let Hydra separate them.

Logically, Bucky knew it would damn near impossible for him to be seized again, not unless an entire army descended to tear him from his new life. They were only likely to be dealing with a few Hydra operatives. The rest were common all garden Russian Mafia over whom Hydra had control. The quarry of the operation was also a sadly all too common one. It was also the largest and most insidious of its kind.

When Bucky had been a young man, before he'd gone off to war, he'd had sweethearts and even a few lovers. He'd been charming and handsome and fell in love at the drop of a hat. During the war he'd found safe haven with more than one lovely young lady. He'd been a romantic as well as a red-blooded American soldier with no ties to anyone but the 107th, and the skinny punk kid he'd left back home in Brooklyn. After the 107th had driven a troupe of Nazis out of a French village, a pair of farm girls had been more that willing to warm his bed for the night and he'd not had a second thought to obliging them.

When he'd been the Winter Soldier, sex had ceased to be part of his make-up. For the most part. There'd been one. But she'd been called Natalia then and their time had been fleeting. She'd been erased from his memory when the next assignment had come his way. As he'd learned since the last time he'd been wakened from the cryo-chamber, the mind was deep and complicated and memories were never truly erased, only compartmentalized and stored away somewhere that sometimes could never be found again. Somehow, the memory of her had resurfaced and despite the fact that she loved him now, he wished he could've forgotten their first time together. She'd been too young and untried. He regretted Natalia, but loved Natasha with every fiber of his being. What they shared in the present was fulfilling and sustaining.

He could not equate what he'd known of women with the world he and the others had walked into. Bucky knew it was particularly difficult for Steve with his gentlemanly manner and chivalrous nature. To him women were to be respected, revered and cherished, not kidnapped to be bought and sold like chattel. Especially not delicate little angels who should've been nervous about a first kiss instead of being brutalized and violated until they became mere shells of their former selves. Innocence was something to protect and that was a fight Captain America could get behind wholeheartedly.

It did hearten Bucky to see his friend go into a mission with his mind in complete clarity. Steve wasn't what he'd call in his element, as the entire business was absolutely vile, but full of purpose. Fighting and killing Nazis back in the 1940s had been black and white, void of the nuance of the gray tones of the 21st century's sociopolitical atmosphere. Rescuing teenage girls from a slavery and prostitution ring was about as black and white as it got in the modern era. Sam shared Steve's vision while to Natasha it was more personal. Though her fortune had brought her to be trained as a weapon instead of another use, her childhood and potential future had been stolen from her too. Bucky felt what they all felt, but for him things went to a different level. He wanted revenge. It did not matter that the men in charge were not the actual ones to have taken him, experimented on him, replaced his arm with cold hard metal, tortured him and used him to kill. They were cut from the same cloth and were part of that world.

He feared how Steve might look at him in the aftermath, if he allowed the Winter Soldier to take over and slaughter the bastards outright. He didn't know what was going to happen until the moment was upon him and he prayed he made it through with his sanity and their friendship intact.

They'd arrived three weeks previously. They began in Moscow, putting out feelers and meeting with the right people who could in turn them introduce them to the next link in the chain. Everyone had played their roles masterfully. Sam was a wealthy American businessman who dallied in prostitution in both Miami and Washington, DC. Steve was his American bodyguard whose job it was to stay silent and stay vigilant. Neither one spoke Russian, which is why his little blond _lyubovnitsa _was glued to Sam's side. The story was that she'd led them back to Mother Russia where she came from to find more girls to be bought and sold to America like she had been - that was where Bucky came in. With his hair short and lightened from being in the sun again, then slicked back and dressed head to toe in black Armani with leather gloves on both his hands, he looked like someone very important. No one had heard of the alias he gave or recognized him for who he was, but he played his part so well they never doubted that he knew their business from the inside. They couldn't rattle him, discredit him or catch him in a lie. He knew everything, including a few names that were only invoked by those with the where with all to back up the speaking of them.

It seemed that the Russian language came to him effortlessly when he didn't think about it and spoke extemporaneously, just as his muscles remembered how to fight and shoot. The Winter Soldier's training was invaluable and that was the only point upon Bucky was willing to concede when it came to his former life.

The four of them moved through the circles and up the ranks, ever closer to the source and Hydra. Bucky gave Steve a great deal of due credit throughout. His friend fought against every impulse to intercede when they encountered the sort women they were meant to be rescuing. Bucky knew his friend was memorizing every face and set of haunted eyes he saw. Because of that, they'd likely be in Russia after their mission had drawn to a close. Bucky knew full well that Steve wasn't a naive fool. Their goal was to cut off one of Hydra's heads, even if two more grew in its place. Nothing Captain America could do would bring an end to sex trafficking, even if he devoted his life to the cause. The human race was simply too perverse. The saddest thing for Steve was was that he remembered Bucky's eyes being just as lost and dead. Bucky remembered what it was like to have his choices taken from him.

By the end of the five weeks, they'd discovered everything they needed and thanks to Fury, transferred an exorbitant amount of funds into a secured bank account of the Mafia's in the Bahamas. That finally got them in contact with Hydra. Their aim was to make money to further their pursuits, especially now that they could no longer exploit S.H.I.E.L.D. In order to make money, they needed product and buyers. It was business to them, pure and simple. This arm of Hydra was not particularly long. They operated within Russia and exported their goods to Europe and Asia. They verily jumped at the chance to expand their operation to America. And when Fury's money spoke, they listened.

The girls, Bucky hesitate to call them women due to their age, were supplied by local Mafia. They were coerced or outright kidnapped. It was Hydra that gathered, arranged and exported them - making sure deliveries kept to a seamless and timely schedule. They were gathered from all over the country and ultimately transported, usually by train, to the port city of Arkhangel'sk in the North. By boat they navigated around Scandinavia to mainland Europe for distribution, or to the East and into China where they were sold to various other criminal organizations.

The aim was to make sure the train never reached its destination. They waited along the route in one of the infinite small villages that peppered the landscape. A hundred miles or so out of the city of Vologda, they took refuge in the belfry of a church in sore need of maintenance. The rafters creeked against the wind and the cold penetrated through every crack. They'd snuck into the village and they intended to leave it with about a hundred and fifty new charges to protect. With three felled mighty fir trees and a few well placed boulders from a construed landslide across the tracks at the edge of the village and the torrential rain pouring down outside, the train would be forced to stop.

There wasn't a soul in sight thanks to both the weather, and the fact that it was past midnight. Their entire world was pitch black save for the faint light of their cell phones with their screens set at their dimmest. And so they waited. Bucky listened to the rain. He hated the rain. Natasha teased him and told him he was just like a cat with his aversion to getting wet, except of course when she joined him in the shower. At first all was silent, then Bucky murmured something in Russian, prompting Natasha to come away from the small window that over looked the train tracks and go to him.

He faced away from Steve and Sam, looking at the darkened corner. Steve gave her a look of concern and she shook her head. This was for her.

She sat next to him and immediately he curled his right hand around her inner thigh. Her hand went up his spine and into his hair. It was shortest he'd had in years, just a few inches long and she ran her fingers through it as she massaged the muscles of his neck. His metal hand cradled his forehead as his head dropped. They felt the eyes of the other two them, but they were far enough away so as not to be heard.

"I'm fine," he spoke in a whisper.

"I know," she replied. "But there's something on your mind."

"Just you."

"Well, normally I'd be flattered, but..."

"You were too young. You were just like these girls we're rescuing."

"No, I wasn't, James. If you're wondering just because you took my virginity you also took my innocence, you didn't. It was gone long before we met. I may have only been a teen, but I knew what I was doing and I knew what I wanted - you. You know my story. I was child when I was taken to be trained and I knew what my future held. When I went looking for you, I knew a time was going to come soon when the choice wouldn't have been my own. I'd been watching you, all the girls had. We knew who you were and the work you did. We all wanted you, but most of them were too scared to even try to get your attention. We saw you leave and come back from your missions. Sometimes you'd be gone for weeks. We made up stories about you, talked about you."

"I was on ice. They couldn't keep me out of the cryo-chamber for too long or memories would start to surface."

"I know that now, but back then we were told you were out on your assignments. So, I listened and I learned. I knew there times you went rogue after you'd completed a mission, and when they brought you back, they had you on lock down until they could subdue you. You were a caged animal and no one wanted to be near you until they figured how how much ketamine they could you tranq you with without killing you."

"Except you?"

"Except me. I don't regret it, especially now. I hope you don't either."

"I don't know. I love you, Natasha... _Natalia_. They took your from me, from my memory. I didn't know you the next time I saw you. It should've been different for us."

"Maybe, in a different life, but being born seventy years apart probably would've put a damper on things. Don't feel shame for what's brought us to where we are. And, I love you too." He squeeze her thigh and sighed wearily. He remembered being with her. It was one of the few cognizant memories he had of being awake during the past century that didn't involve being on a mission. For all the chaos and bloodshed he'd been responsible for, it was the small things that still got to him. When she'd found him a year ago, he'd been that same caged animal, though most of his bite was gone. He'd just been too weary and battleworn to fight anymore, but she'd restored him. She, along with his best friend who he'd follow into any hell. Sometimes he missed his old self, the boy who'd gone to war and fallen to his doom from a speeding train, but in the here and now, he couldn't regret the course his extraordinary life had taken.

Natasha leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He whispered back a term of endearment and she kissed him again.

"The wifi signal out here is pretty lousy," Sam said, needing to break the silence. "Am I gonna be stuck here playing Tetris on my phone all night?"

"Better than being in a trench, knee deep in mud and snow with an entire Nazi battalion over next ridge waiting to obliterate you," Steve added, with his ever endearing crooked smile.

Bucky let go of Natasha and turned himself around. "Or that foxhole when Falsworth had sauerkraut for dinner," Bucky added.

A huge grin appeared on Steve's face and he laughed. "I'd forgotten about that! I think I might've blocked it out."

"How the hell could you have forgotten? Our eyes were watering!"

The moment of levity was fleeting as the sound of the approaching train alerted them. They fell silent and rose, waiting for the sound of the train screeching to a violent halt as they tried to prevent it from crashing into the debris across the tracks. While undoubtedly the sound had wakened the village, it was irrelevant to the task at hand. Once the fighting began, the villagers would steer clear. The four descended from the church tower with Steve leading the way and Bucky following last, keeping keen attention to the surrounding wilderness and the village for anyone who might be armed. It was his duty to protect the others while Steve took out the Hydra men with Sam and following up to finish off anyone who wasn't suitably subdued or dead. Natasha's goal was to disable anything that would alert Hydra to there being trouble with the train. Once the interference was detected, anything could happen - including an air strike.

While they were all in black, Captain America's shield and Steve's imposing figure still had Bucky imagining stars and stripes. He flexed the reticulated metal of his fingers and followed after Natasha. She would be the most vulnerable one as she overrode the train's computer systems. Unholstering his gun from his side, Bucky took it in hand, ready to take down anyone who threatened his team.

Steve with his shield upon his arm, advanced. There'd be no mistaking who he was the moment Hydra's men set eyes on him. As the rain continued to pelt down upon them, Bucky felt nerves at the pit of his stomach and he took it as a good sign. The Winter Soldier never felt a thing, but Bucky remembered that as a Howling Commando he always felt that same lurch before they engaged the enemy. It was good and familiar and made him feel confident about just who was running the show from inside his head. He'd had a few conversations with Bruce Banner about what it was like to feel like you were two people in the same body. Bucky was eternally grateful that Hydra hadn't any interest in gamma radiation at the time they'd controlled him.

Natasha moved deftly through the night, silent as a spider on its threads of silk. There were four operations technicians in the engine, dutifully going over the constant stream of information on their consoles and accessing the critical situation outside. They were on a schedule. As soon as one of them gave the orders over the comm to dispatch a number of guards to attempt to clear the way - with Hydra weapons - he and Natasha sprang into action. She side stepped for a second to allow him to haul off the door to the car. While the majority of the train was disused and salvaged as most of the Russian lines were, the engine was sleek and completely outfitted. It was still no match for the sheer power of his cybernetic arm - especially thanks to the upgrades and refinements provided to him by Tony Stark. Vibranium and Adamantium alloy could pretty much outmatch anything, unless Hydra had somehow managed to melt down Mjolnir and that was highly doubtful.

Natasha was back in play instantly, dispatching each man with her widow's sting, leaving them convulsing on the ground as the electric shocks continued to course through them. She hauled herself up into the car and immediately went about disabling anything that might alert Hydra to any interruptions in the train's journey. Bucky hovered near the door, but obscured in the shadows in order to get the jump on anyone that might come after his woman.

On the other side of the train the distinct sound of Hydra weapons being discharged surged through the air, along with the familiar din of Captain America's shield ricocheting off metal and stone alike. There was gunfire and orders barked out in Russian and Bucky felt his muscles tense up in anticipation.

"Go help Steve and Sam, I've got this!" Natasha ordered and with a nod he was gone. Without a second thought Bucky jumped into the fray, and just in time as he scaled over the roof of the train to find two Hydra men about to fire their weapons from their vantage point above. Grabbing one with his metal hand and the other of flesh and bone, he spun around to gather momentum and sent them flying off over the side and into the ravine below. It hit him then, that the entire scenario felt sickly familiar. Fortunately the train wasn't in motion. What was also familiar was that, like the fateful day decades ago, Steve needed him.

Jumping down into the mud on the slope next to the train, he drew the attention away from where Sam was dodging blasts from the Hydra weapons. They turned on him and seconds later they hit the ground as Steve's shield clocked them both on the back of their heads, the impact and reverberation on their helmets making them drop like stones. There was a moment of relief as their opponents lay inert on the ground, but the peace was succinctly obliterated as another blast came down from on high. The last guard had been standing on top of the boulders at the front of the train and had gone unnoticed until he'd fired. Sam was already shooting at the guard in retaliation.

Bucky saw the look on Steve's face when he realized what was happening. Beyond that, and as damning as could be, Bucky could practically see Steve's stomach leapt into his throat as the beam of energy came sailing past him. He was already on the move towards his friend. Bucky was standing at the edge of the ravine with nothing but blackness behind him and another perilous drop that could very well end his life. Steve reacted, intending to send his shield into the path of the blast, but it had all happened in the blink of an eye.

Bucky held up his left arm to absorb the energy. He felt it course through him, flowing through the infinite wires, artificial synapses and the woven sinew, through the layered plates of metal and into the core that fed straight into his central nervous system and made the prosthetic a seamless part of his body. In that moment, two things flitted into his mind - the first was that he felt the great chasm reach up to snatch him away again, and second was something inside him reaching out for Steve.

As shield embedded itself in the side of the train, Bucky felt the sickening dread that for a second time, he was going to lose everything. But, unlike previously, when he extended his hand for Steve's, his friend was there to take hold of it and pull him from the brink. The mud was unstable beneath his feet, and he was dangerously close to the edge, but Steve had him. The two men looked into each others' eyes. Steve's right hand gripped so tightly to his right forearm, Bucky was certain he'd be bruised come morning. He held on to Steve just as tightly.

Steve took a step backwards and Bucky went with him. Then another, and another until they were back up near the tracks. Only then did they let go. Steve paused to retrieve his shield and the three men made their way back around the front of the train and to the control room where Natasha waited. A scowl appeared on her face when she saw the state of her love. The leather of his jacket, fashioned after the one that was now housed in the Smithsonian and a gift from her, was missing most of the left sleeve, burned away from the blast from the Hydra weapon.

"It's nothing," Bucky spoke, as he stole a kiss from her lips. "You can thank Tony for his modifications - absorbed, utilized and dispersed the energy."

She didn't seem mollified and he sighed, giving her a loving but apologetic look. He definitely wasn't going to share a thing about nearly falling into an abyss.

Now that the danger element had been taken care of, there was the purpose of their mission to see to. Natasha had already released the locks on the middle car that carried the passengers. What awaited them on the other side of the door remained to be seen.

Bucky felt his guts clench at the site that welcomed them when they slid the door to the car aside. They were met with multiple shrieks and whimpers and the girls cowered together under the dim light on the car's ceiling. He shared a look with Steve and they both knew they were remembering the same moment from their past. The memory remained keen and altogether unpleasant for both of them. While their missions during the War had been to neutralize Hydra's numerous bases across Europe, there were times when the Howling Commandos took side jobs as they travelled to the next destination. The Nazis were still operating with full purpose in respects to gathering up prisoners to dispatch to concentration camps. They'd come upon a train transporting Jews from Athens to Auschwitz. The Howling Commandos of course intervened and disposed of every single last Nazi on the train. But as they opened the doors to the train's cars... the horror of what they'd seen would always haunt them. Despite successfully freeing the prisoners, and getting them on a boat across the Mediterranean to Africa, the inhumanity of it all had shaken each man to their core.

Fortunately, Natasha's appearance changed the atmosphere, allowing the girls to calm somewhat to know that they weren't simply being taken over by another group of ruthless men. She climbed into the car and began to explain who they were and what was happening. Bucky's jaw tightened as some of the girls began weeping and Steve had to look away too. Sam lingered back, keeping watch, but equally as disturbed.

There wasn't much time. They had to get moving and be long gone, and untraceable before sunrise when the train was expected to arrive in Arkhangel'sk. The girls were all cold, hungry, terrified and reluctant to believe that they were indeed being rescued. There was no help for it. The girls were given the option to disembark presently and remain in the village, or continue on to where Fury's agents would be willing to escort them back to their various homes scattered across the country. They weren't being held prisoner any longer. More than a dozen did decide to leave, but most stayed.

Between the two of them and their enhanced strength, Steve and Bucky cleared away the boulders and trees, sending them down into the chasm of the ravine on the side of the tracks opposite to the village. Bucky wasn't afraid of heights, but the combination of the drop in conjunction with the train and what had happened with the Hydra soldiers did unsettle him. He turned away and focused on the task at hand. He and Steve took care of piling the dead bodies of the soldiers they'd killed in the last car. Death was acceptable in the course of a mission. Killing soldiers on the opposite side during wartime was a necessary evil. Most of them had been kids like they'd been. They'd believed they were in the right every bit as much as Steve and Bucky had. However, when the deeds were heinous, soulless and perverse, the two men could take heart in the knowledge that they were dealing justice and had done so again this night.

With the dirty work done, the four convened outside the open door of the passenger car, the dim light from within illuminating them in silhouette. While the hard part was done with, the mission had truly only just begun. It was time for them to split into pairs and travel in opposite directions. They were all seasoned professionals, but Bucky couldn't help the pang of sadness that lanced his heart. There were two people in his life that he felt such strong emotions for that the need to be with them and protect them was difficult to temper. Steve and Natasha both were formidable individuals. They didn't need his protection, and yet he knew they both needed him in their own ways. Even in the context of a covert operation, he couldn't quite emotionally separate himself from his own nature. He was still a man. The Winter Soldier was a part of him, but he wasn't the dominant any longer.

The time had come to let her go and he found himself compelled to assure himself that it wouldn't be the last time he'd see her. Bucky didn't care that they had an audience of over a hundred. By now Steve and Sam were used to him being affectionate with his lady. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her near. Natasha bristled slightly - it wasn't appropriate in the middle of a mission for a myriad of reasons - then accepted and returned his gesture. She kissed his mouth and stroked his cheek with her fingertips while his hands squeezed her body. He just needed a few moments to remind himself they were all alive and well. Bucky deepened their kiss and fully encompassed her in his arms, lifting her small but powerful body off her feet. It was ridiculous to have romantic thoughts given their situation, but he found it terribly alluring to be kissing her in the rain.

After a time he set her down and smiled at her, feeling a little embarrassed but content nonetheless. All the girls were staring at them and he thought for a moment that it might do them some good to see a man be kind and loving to his lady - give them something to aspire to.

"Not gonna see you for a little," he murmured.

Natasha returned his smile, rubbing her thumb over the stubble on his chin. "Just think of how fun our reunion will be, soldier. Paris, two weeks. Top of the Eiffel Tower, 9pm. Don't be late."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Be safe."

"Always. I have Sam watching my back. Same goes for you."

"Got Steve."

He let her go, very reluctantly, and sighed heavily. With a nod to Sam, he went and stood with his friend as the train rolled away and into the night. He'd be worried until she messaged him that they'd met up with Fury and his team in Kotlas some two hundred plus miles away. And he'd worry still until he saw her in Paris. It was the perils of loving someone, but he accepted them wholeheartedly. He marvelled at the course his life had taken and thanked his lucky stars he'd finally landed on his feet. More so that he'd landed next to his lifelong friend.

He stood inert as Steve came back down the ridge after they'd watched the train disappear into the darkness. They cast their eyes towards the villagers that had been observing throughout the whole affair. Fortunately none of them had seen fit to interfere. It would not have been a wise course of action, and Bucky would not have wanted to have killed anyone uneccessarily in order to ensure the success of their mission.

Fury had arranged for their transport back to Moscow by way of a pair of motorcycles hidden on an off road with the absolute assurance that they would no have any trouble acquiring them. There was however the small trouble of having to walk through the wilderness to get to them. Without delay the pair set out, making their way in the darkness, both ever vigilant to threats. As the hours waned and dawn approached, Bucky could tell there was something up with his friend. He'd gone quiet some time ago and was deep in thought.

"You think too hard, you know that?" Bucky spoke. "I can practically see the gears turning inside that head of yours."

Steve smiled and sniffed. Bucky always could read him. "Yeah, I know."

"So? Start talking."

"What happened back there..." For a moment, it was 1944 again and they were on a speeding train along the edge of a vast precipice, only this time Bucky hadn't died. His cybernetic arm had absorbed the energy from the Hydra weapon and he hadn't been blown out into the abyss and lost.

Bucky turned and laid his hand to Steve's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. The gesture was a familiar one and it felt like home to both men. "I know, pal. Trust me, I know."

Steve looked at his friend and into the same blue eyes that had always been there when Bucky had picked him up when he'd got knocked down. "If you had gone over the edge, this time I would've jumped after you. I wouldn't have thought twice."

Bucky nodded and the two men embraced. They were brothers before they'd gone of to war, and were even more so now. Steve thought back to that moment on the Helicarrier when they'd fought and how he'd witnessed his friend return to him. Steve had been battered and shot but he'd seen it in Bucky's eyes as he'd struggled past decades of manipulation and torture and became horrified by the truth of who they were to each other when it finally dawned on him. Each man valued that moment. It had defined their future and they had started a new the moment Bucky had followed him into the water and pulled him safely to the shore.

Bucky let Steve go and looked him square in the eye. "Time to stop thinking and start doing. We're a mile off from the pickup point and we still have to ride to Moscow. We've got a criminal organization to bring to its knees."

Two weeks later Bucky found himself at the top of the Eiffel Tower over looking the luminescent city under the blackest night he'd seen in years. The tower itself was just as lit up - an iconic beacon in the magnificent city, but where he stood was in a shadow. There were still plenty of tourists, but the crowd was thinning. There wasn't all that much room at the very top and when people couldn't let themselves get lost in the view, they left after circling around all sides. He'd been a half an hour early, just to prove it to her that he could be. Besides, it wasn't very gentlemanly to keep a lady waiting.

His left hand whipped out and caught her wrist the second he got a sense of her. She'd been trying to sneak up on him, but he always knew when it was her. He pulled her too him and kissed her breathless. He loved that he could make the Black Widow go weak at the knees. Her heart was a heavily guarded fortress to just about everyone, save him. She melted against him, hands fisting in his hair as her tongue dueled with his. They forgot themselves for a little while, sealing the promise of what the rest of the evening would entail.

Bucky had left Steve at Charles de Gaulle airport - where Tony Stark's private jet was going to wing him home to the States. Bucky had finally got Steve to admit that things were more serious with Sharon than either had let on, but they'd kept to themselves - the pair of them deciding to be discreet and wanting to keep things private and theirs. It did Bucky's heart good to know that Steve finally had for himself what he did with Natasha.

He and Natasha had kept in touch, keeping each other abreast of their progress, but it wasn't the same as being together in the flesh. The girls had successfully been delivered into Fury's hands, and teams would return them each to their homes, or wherever else they wanted to go. Another group would be going to Arkhangel'sk to do what needed to be done at the docks and destroy another of Hydra's heads. Natasha and Sam stayed with Fury for an extra day before gaining transport to Helsinki and then Sam had returned to the USA and she'd continued on to Paris. During that time, Bucky and Steve had been dismantling several arms of the Russian Mafia. The ones that didn't get killed, were handed over to the people they'd wronged. There'd never truly be an end to such a pervasive organization, much like Hydra, but they'd certainly set them back a hell of a lot. They'd left Russia with the satisfying knowledge of having cut off one of Hydra's heads. The hope was that for once the proverbial two more wouldn't arise in their place.

For the time being, the world was a little bit safer.

Natasha pulled away from his lips slowly and their eyes met. He tried to think of something to say, but words failed him. He kissed her again. They were in the most romantic city in the world and he had it in mind to woo his lady properly. He'd been to Paris a few times as the Winter Soldier, but it was his memories from before that came to the forefront. Even during the war, it had been a beautiful city, though a bit posh for his tastes. He was a beer or whiskey sort of a man, not Chardonnay or Merlot. But he'd still fallen under its charms. Creating new memories with the woman he loved was very appealing.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him near again. He felt her breath against the shell of his ear. "Think of all the trouble we could find tonight," she whispered, he tongue grazing his ear lobe. A shudder of pleasure coursed through him and his hands tightened around her hips.

"I think you're trouble enough," he replied, his voice low and rough.

"You'll have to use some of that old fashioned charm of yours." She kissed the spot on his neck below his ear. His hands moved from her hips, lower, bringing her flush against him. "Where are we staying tonight?"

"Not far. An apartment on Ile-St-Louis."

"That's at least a half hour away. Ever made love at the top of the Eiffel Tower?"

"Not yet... and not in front of twenty tourists."

"We're not at the very top, are we?"

"Natasha..." She gave his neck a little bite and he stifled his groan of arousal.

"Just kidding, even I'm not that crazy. We'll catch a cab, the Metro will take too long."

"I would've if you wanted to."

"I know, and I love you for it." He gave her a smirk, one that told her something interesting was about to happen. He took her left hand in his right and directed her towards the elevators. There were a small group of tourists waiting for the next car to arrive. They are the last ones to be leaving. Bucky held Natasha back until everyone was inside. The operator gave them a curious look and at that, Bucky knelt down and slipped the fingers of his gloved metal hand between the platform and the car. He looked upwards at the confused and worried faces of the passengers. Their concern was justified as suddenly the car was jolted upwards by two feet. One woman screamed.

Before she knew just what was happening, Bucky had pulled Natasha to him again, taken her feet out from under her and slid them effortlessly underneath the car. The rush was incredible as they sped down the cables towards the lower platform. The leather over his metal hand was shredding but his grip was firm. His other hand held her against his body with a sure, possessive hold. She clutched on to him tightly, her hair blowing all around them as they watched the ground rise up to meet them at an alarming rate.

Natasha gasped loudly when he let go before the cable ended and used the combined momentum of their bodies to propel them towards one of the tower's struts below the first level. Dangling hundreds of feat in the air by only the strength of his metal hand holding on to a girder, Bucky turned and looked her in the eyes to find them shimmering. She then kissed him with a hunger unmatched.

"I'm so turned on right now," she growled. He kissed her again with his eyes closed and ninety percent of his concentration on worshipping her lovely mouth. He loosened his grip just enough to allow them slide down towards the next cross-strut. His fingers bumped over the rivets, but he was strong enough to keep them steady. A short while and some skillful maneuvering later, they were on the ground and Natasha rushed to the road to wave down a taxi. He sauntered after her with a smile on his face.

Hours later the pair were laying together half asleep, and half wanting to prolong the past few hours they'd shared. They had exhausted themselves and sleep would be welcomed. The only part Bucky liked about them separating was their reunions. Making love with Natasha was and always had been a revelation. The hours they spent passionately embroiled with each other always served to bring him a certain calm. Few things in this world could. But what outshone the physical was the connection it forged. He'd always been certain that he and Steve were soul mates of a fashion, they were brothers and he loved the other man with every fiber of his being, but Natasha brought him peace. He understood full well the irony of this fact, since neither of them had ever lead particularly peaceful lives. She helped him cage his demons.

His left arm, the metal of which was warmed by her body, pulled her back snug against him. She stirred in her sleep and tightened her fingers around his flesh ones, softly murmuring his name from a dream. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and tucked his knees up behind hers. He looked out the window as the night sky gave way to the soft greens and yellows of first light. He closed his eyes and tried to think of the good he'd done in this world and hoped it would be enough to keep his nightmares at bay once more.

The End


End file.
